


More than just a nightmare

by PaulineHolmes02



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mary Morstan Doesn't Exist, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruises, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock Holmes, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Protective John Watson, Scars, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes Has a Nightmare, Sherlock Is Not Okay, Sherlock is a Mess, Tortured Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 12:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16854376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulineHolmes02/pseuds/PaulineHolmes02
Summary: John is woken up in the middle of the night by screams from the living room. It turns out that Sherlock has a nightmare and that he's not as strong as he thought he is.Warning : violence, sign of the torture





	More than just a nightmare

The night silence at 221b on Baker Street was cut with a loud scream.  
John, groaned as he opened his eyes. He had a pretty good dream and did not want to get up out of bed.  
"JOHN!!!"  
'If Sherlock wakes me up just for some stupid experiment, I'll probably choke him out!', John thought as he slowly pulled himself up and ruffled his hair.

A few days ago Sherlock woke him up at four in the morning. It turned out he just wanted to show him what the nail would do in the boiler. He had something to do to prevent him from striking him.  
But that scream was entirely different, somewhat desperate. John tossed his legs out of his bed and jerked on the bedside table to find his cell phone. Two o'clock in the morning! He moaned quietly, put on his favourite beige sweater and warm socks and went downstairs, where the cries came from.  
"Sherlock?" he was beginning to be nervous

He walked into the living room, which was as usual messy. There were several open books on the table, pillows laid on the carpet, and next to the tray of untouched food that John had tried to stuff into Sherlock (unsuccessfully...), the skull was standing. John almost ignored it, when you're lucky enough to live with Sherlock Holmes, you'll get used to a constantly flattering apartment or unpleasant surprises in the fridge.

"NOOO!" Came the scream from the sofa.  
John ran to hIm quickly, utterly confused. When he saw the younger man on the couch, his throat gripped.  
Sherlock lay curled on the sofa, his knees pressed against his chin. His chest kept rising and falling rapidly. He was shaking all over his body as if he had a fever, and his face was sweating. John reached his hand slowly and touched his sweaty forehead. No temperature, it had to be the nightmare. He looked so vulnerable, he was unnaturally white, pale than usual, and so thin, it was a hit in the eyes.

"Never!"  
John almost jumped, he was frightened.  
" Možete učiniti što sve želite sa mnom, ali nikad vam neću reći gde je John! Nikad nećeš znati!" ( _You can do everything you want to me, but I will never EVER tell you where John Watson is! You'll never know!_ )  
The man cried out on the sofa and began to twitch as if he had an epileptic seizure, and then an almost inhuman scream of pain broke out of his lips.

John's eyes widen in shock when he heard the sound of his name, it was the only part he understood. Sherlock was speaking some foreign language, something like Russian... or maybe Polish? John was so confused, he had no idea why Sherlock has a dream - more likely a nightmare - in a different language...

Another shriek flew out of his mouth as he unfolded his arms widely. He kept screaming and shivers trembled his skinny figure, but he looked so still...

Suddenly, John realised those movements... He saw this once in Afghanistan... No, this can't be a truth...

He sat down on the edge of the couch, grabbing his friend on both sides of his face and leaning toward him.  
"Sherlock, Sherlock, wake up, it's just a nightmare!" He could no longer listen to his screams filled with pain. He grasped Sherlock's shoulders and shook him gently.

Detective's blue-green eyes blinked and quickly opened, a mixture of fear and pain in them. But when he saw John, there was a relief of relief in his face. "John," he whispered in a hoarse voice, resting his head onto the pillow with the flag of England. His breath was so rapid, he was panting like after running a marathon.

" Hey, just look at me... Breathe." John whispered, his voice filled with concern. He was so worried about him. " What happened? Just talk to me, please..."

Detective raised a black eyebrow. " Isn't that obvious? I had a nightmare, it's nothing extraordinary..." Sherlock answered nonchalantly, trying to sound as if nothing happened. Although is eyes sharpened, all emotions were gone.

" Sherlock, you know I'm not talking about that nightmare! You haven't been yourself since you came back. Please, let me help you... " John begged. He knew he sounded desperate, but he didn't care about that. He cared about Sherlock.

" I'm fine, John... " Said detective and tried to keep his voice calm and strong. He didn't want to look like a coward in front of the soldier.

John took a deep breath. " I can't just sit by and do nothing when you're suffering so much." He slowly reached his hand and put it slightly on Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock pulled out of the grasp of his friend. " Don't touch me! I said I'm fine!" He snapped, angrily. It was a reflex, he couldn't stop himself. Suddenly, he was so afraid of the pain, that he's going to be beaten again.

"Stop telling me that you're fine! Because I'm not swallowing it!" John ruffled his hair in frustration, slowly rising his voice. " How could you be fine? You've been captured! They tortured you, for God's sake! "

John was getting into the rage. " Why didn't you tell me? Do you have any idea how guilty I am feeling right now? Because I'm a bad best friend! I should have noticed that something bad happened to you! But no, you're the great Sherlock Holmes, 'I know best, I don't need friends, alone protects me' -" John suddenly stopped his tirade.

Sherlock fixed his heterochromic eyes into John's. Tears flowed down his fallen cheeks. John held his breath, he had never seen Sherlock cry in his life, and he was terrified, in fact. Immediately he wished to take his words back, he felt so bad. "Sherlock, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to scream, I'm just so worried. "

The detective shook his head, looking down at his knees. " No, John, I'm the one who should be sorry... I let you grief for me for two years. But I had to do it... I-I had to protect you..." He whispered softly.

John almost choked himself when he heard this. His mouth opened in shock. " What? What do you mean?"

" Moriarty had his snipers on you, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson... I just couldn't let you die... " Admitted Sherlock, took a shaking breath and continued. " When I jumped out of the Barts Hospital, I was sent on... some kind of mission. My task was breaking Moriarty's web in the world, so he won't be able to hurt anyone... Everything went quite well... Until Serbia... "

John clasped a fist on his lips to prevent himself from the gasp.

As Sherlock talked, he saw it all again. All those horrible memories attacked his mind. " They caught me, imprisoned me and kept interrogating me for so long two months! I refused to talk to them. When they lost their patience, they became... violent. They wanted to know about... They knew about my pressure point... And they used it. "

It was beginning to make sense. " You've been tortured because of me..." Croaked John, his throat uncomfortably tight with anxiety. His shaking hands fell into his lap with a numb thump, his eyes wide and reddish.

Sherlock's slowly fading voice turned into a whisper. " They wanted to know where to find you, but I haven't told them. I would never ever betray you, I had to keep you safe... "

" Oh my Goodness, they tortured you because of ME... " repeated doctor. The guilt almost suffocated him. How can be so calm about this?

" John, that's the reason why I haven't tell you. It's not your fault, you don't have to feel guilty. It simply happened... " Sherlock tried to convince him, John didn't have a right to blame himself for it.

" Simply happened? Sherlock, are you mad?" John's voice was beginning to rise again, but he didn't mean to shout or scare him.

" Can I... Can I see them?" John asked slowly.

" I... I don't know if I want you to see me like that... So weak and vulnerable, what would you think? You're a soldier, it's nothing compared to you. It's... It's nothing, really..." Sherlock stuttered nervously as he crumpled the hem of his white shirt, which was always quite tight on him, like a second skin. It was so baggy on him right now, he had to drop off his weight.

" Sherlock, you're not ashamed of your scars, are you?"

The detective lowered his eyes, refusing to look at John. Suddenly he looked so young, like a kid who knows he has done something bad.

" Stop pushing everyone away, you don't have to be alone. Just let me help you... Please... " John whispered, pleading him with his ocean-blue eyes.

Sherlock hesitated for the while before nodding. With his trembling thin fingers he began to unbutton his shirt, his breathing went faster with nervous." It won't be easy on the eyes." he warned him as the white fabric slipped down from his shoulders and he turned around.

John gasped for the air, eyes widen in a horror. Sherlock's back was a mess! There wasn't even one little spot left uninjured!  
It was a complete huddle of bruises and another injuries he had ever seen. Nasty twisted scratches stretched along his torso, across his protruding spine, shoulder blades and ribs. Thin and thick scars entwined between huge dark purple stains, some of them began to fade and turn yellowish.

" Are you done with staring?" Sherlock retorted, hiding his fear and doubt behind his sharp tone. He folded his skinny arms around his stomach. He felt a bit better, with hands around his body used as a shield.

John knew very well that he was faking, but he was afraid that he would upset him even more. " You're not okay..." John noted plainly. " Can I clear your wounds? Some of them are inflamed. But if you don't want to be touched, it's fine by me. You can visit some doctor."

" You are my doctor, John Watson. I think you're the only one I'll let to check them."

After a half hour, Sherlock was sitting on the couch, still shirtless. John had cleared some of his very bad scratches, but it was so painful! Finally, it was over. John said that it will be only better. 

John stripped his fluffy beige cable-knit jumper and pulled it over Sherlock's head." What awe you doing, Immot cold'- " Sherlock slurred through the knitted yarn.

" You only have goosebumps and you're shivering... No, you absolutely aren't cold..." John sneered. He had to admit that detective looked quite comical and... adorable? It was too short for him, sleeves ended somewhere in the middle of his forearms. Jumper was baggy on him, he seemed so tiny.

Sherlock brought the soft cloth closer to his body, secretly inhaling John's scent. It smelled so nice. " Thank you..."

" I should be the one who should thank you. You saved me, you don't even know how many times... How did you make it? I mean, how did you manage to go through...this?" The doctor asked. He knew that a lot of people had gone insane because of being tortured.

Sherlock's cheeks flushed with pink. Sherlock Holmes was blushing." I haven't got mad thanks to my Mind Palace. I-I..."

" Is that a stutter? I've never thought I would hear the great Sherlock Holmes lack his words." John teased him a little bit. 

" Forget I said anything... It wasn't important... " Sherlock tried to back out of this conversation.

But John didn't let him. " No please, tell me... I'm not going to laugh at you, I swear..." He fixed on him his big puppy eyes. 

"Sherlock took a deep breath. He couldn't believe he was going to say that. " Youweretheonewhokeptmesane. " He said rapidly, as quickly as he was able to.

John blinked, confused. He didn't understand not even one word. " Excuse me?"

Sherlock lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in wiping up some invisible speck from his black trousers. " The only thing that kept me sane... were you..." He closed his eyes and his face was burning. " Because I... I... Because I love you..." He whispered so softly that his voice almost faded.

" Oh, Sherlock..." John gave him a big smile with familiar dimples. He knew exactly what Sherlock was saying. He didn't want to badger him.

His right hand dropped to his raven hair. His curls were incredibly soft and pleasant, though he would never admit it, he often wondered what they would be like on the touch. He gently laid him down and put his curly head onto his lap. Sherlock opened his eyes and looked above in John's round face.

" I love you too, you annoying stubborn git..." mumbled John and grinned at the detective. He bowed down his head to press his forehead onto Sherlock's. " You need to rest now. Don't move. "

" With pleasure..." Sherlock smiled and then he was silenced with John's lips. At first, he was quite stiff, but he gave in after a while and began to return sweet little kisses John was giving him. His lips were absolutely perfect, well not just a lips...

When they pulled out of each other, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and snuggled closer to him. He was quite soft and warm, Sherlock could stay like this all day...

" You can sleep now, ..." John murmured, as he to stroked his hair. " Don't worry, I won't let anybody to hurt you ... " He reached out for a blanket and threw it around Sherlock who already fell asleep. John smiled at him, he looked so young. He pressed a light kiss on Sherlock's forehead and fell asleep with detective's head on his thighs.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again.
> 
> I hope you liked my new story. I simply don't like that John doesn't know anything about Sherlock's scars and torturing, so I decided to take it in my own hands. :)
> 
> Yours   
> PaulineHolmes02


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